An Eye for an Eye
by elbcw
Summary: 'What is it that you want' said d'Artagnan. 'You two to come quietly,' said the man. 'And why would we do that' asked Aramis. 'We could shoot a few of the locals' said the man. 'Spect you wouldn't want that… would you' Aramis and d'Artagnan are abducted by a man who had a score to settle. This is a follow up to my story Retribution.
1. Chapter 1

**Authors note: This is a follow up to Retribution, which I wrote a while ago. If you have not read that it involved a man, Robert, seeking revenge after Aramis inadvertently killed his younger brother. Robert kidnapped d'Artagnan with the intention of killing him to deprive Aramis of the closest thing he has to a brother. Obviously, it didn't work, and Robert is still a bit annoyed...**

**Chapter One**

'Captain,' said Porthos as he walked into the garrison yard with purpose.

Treville, who had been coaching a cadet with his sparring, looked across. He indicated for the cadet to carry on before walking towards his Musketeer. Porthos' expression told Treville that the conversation was not going to be a casual one to pass the time of day.

'I've just heard from one of the guards at the Chatelet. Robert has escaped.'

Treville tilted his head, not understanding.

'The man we arrested for the assault on d'Artagnan,' Porthos filled in the gap in Treville's mind.

He nodded his understanding, 'the one who had that vendetta against Aramis for killing his brother.'

'The same,' said Porthos, his expression grim. 'The guard said he killed one of the goalers before switching clothes and slipping away. You'll probably get an official notification soon enough.'

Treville tried to think of all the possible scenarios. The vengeful man might just run, but his was a sentence of death if he was recaptured, he would be conveyed to the scaffold regardless. Robert had nothing to lose. His previous attempt to kill Aramis had failed, but he would probably try again. Treville was sure the man would not simply run.

'Where is Aramis?' asked Porthos who had likely come to the same conclusion.

Treville knew that it would be impractical to watch the threatened man constantly, but the least they could do was warn him he was in danger.

Treville sighed, 'it is almost a replaying of the last time,' he said. 'He and d'Artagnan were on duty at the Palace, they are probably on their way back here now.'

Porthos looked at the garrison gate, 'once they get back, we'll do what we can to keep an eye on Aramis… at least for a few days.'

'Probably all we can do,' said Treville with resignation.

MMMM

_Several months earlier... _

'I know we were supposed to take Robert alive, Aramis, but it was kill or be killed. Why has this bothered you so much?'

Athos was a little exasperated with his friend's negativity. They had met at the rendezvous a few hours before and were busy making camp for the night before returning the following morning to the house where they would retrieve Robert's body.

He and Porthos were shocked to see the state of their friend when Aramis and d'Artagnan had appeared at the meeting point, a bridge over a wide river, close to where they were now busy with preparations for their meal.

Aramis had bruising on his face and neck and had looked quite haunted. D'Artagnan had not known what to do about Aramis' melancholy mood. The cadet had looked pleased to see him and Porthos.

'I should have been able to fight him off,' Aramis had said, his voice still hoarse from his near throttling.

D'Artagnan explained what had happened, he looked very guilty as he told them how he ended up pinned to the wall unable to help Aramis. Porthos reminded the young man that they were all tired, having been chasing Robert for several days and none of them had really rested in that time. Fatigue eventually led to mistakes being made, d'Artagnan did not need to feel he had let them down.

Porthos forced Aramis to sit in the centre of the clearing and left him in charge of building up the fire while d'Artagnan was despatched to collect water. Athos approved of the move. Both men had been affected by the events and needed to be kept occupied.

'He'll be alright in the morning,' said Porthos quietly to Athos as they pulled food from their saddlebags.

Athos nodded, they had all been affected by some missions more than others. Sometimes the work just got to them. It was true that under normal circumstances Aramis would have easily been able to deal with the fugitive, but d'Artagnan had explained how Aramis had been forced to fight Robert in a room with no time to draw his gun. The sprightly young man had been able to get the better of Aramis for a short time, it had been unfortunate that in trying to shake the man off him, Aramis had accidentally killed him by pushing Robert back onto two hooks in the wall of the room.

'We will collect the body in the morning and get back to Paris. We could all do with a good night's sleep,' said Athos with a glance at Aramis who was staring off into the middle distance, his work on the fire forgotten.

MMMM

Aramis continued to be quiet the following morning, Porthos tried to make light-hearted conversation but even d'Artagnan was not responding to his jokes and tall tales. The cadet led them back to the house where he and Aramis had fought with Robert.

Porthos could see why they had struggled in the small house. It would have been difficult for his friend to draw his gun, let alone his sword without being compromised by his opponent.

They dismounted and left the horses loosely tied to a couple of trees. As they approached the house Aramis dropped to the back of the group allowing d'Artagnan to lead them into the house. The house had clearly been abandoned for some years. Its remote location had meant no one had claimed it for their own. Rot was creeping into the woodwork; rats could be heard scrabbling away as they pushed open the creaking door.

D'Artagnan paused at the bottom of the wooden stairs and pointed at a couple of the steps where the rot was setting into the planks. As he climbed the stairs, he missed out the obviously dangerous steps.

Porthos glanced back at Aramis who was following them up the stairs. His friend was still troubled by the death of the man they had been pursuing. D'Artagnan had said to both Athos and himself that he was not sure if he could have done more to placate Aramis. They had reassured the cadet that he had done all that he could. Robert's death was not what they had wanted, they had been ordered to take the man alive. Aramis had inadvertently gone against the order, but only to save his and d'Artagnan's lives.

'In here,' said d'Artagnan as he paused by the open door at the top of the stairs looking into the room.

Porthos stepped into the room and crouched by the body, reaching out to turn the dead man over. He paused looking at the body intently.

'What?' asked d'Artagnan when he saw Porthos' confused look.

'That ain't him,' said Porthos with a shake of his head.

'What?' said Aramis, the shock evident in his voice.

Neither Athos nor he had thought to mention the previous night that they had been given a further description of Robert. The lead Aramis and d'Artagnan had been following was very reliable, they had been convinced their friends had been on the correct trail.

Porthos looked back at his friend who was stood in the doorway, the colour had drained from his face, his eyes were wide in disbelief.

Athos stepped forward for a closer look, 'he's too young. The basic description is the same but that is not Robert. This man is several years younger.'

Aramis took a couple of steps back out onto the small landing at the top of the stairs, before turning away.

'You weren't to know, Aramis,' said d'Artagnan, 'he was trying to kill you and he would have killed me if he'd had the chance.'

D'Artagnan looked to Porthos and Athos, it was obvious he did not know what to say to placate his friend. Porthos rose from beside the body and crossed the room to Aramis who was taking deep shaky breathes, obviously struggling with the fact that he had killed the wrong man.

'Aramis,' Porthos said firmly, 'this is not your fault. We only got the full description ourselves a couple of days ago. You were following a solid lead. And d'Artagnan's right, from the way the fight has been described it was an accident. He was trying to kill you, you reacted, and he got impaled on those hooks. It. Was. An. Accident.'

Aramis did not look convinced. He blinked a few times before walking from the room. They heard him descend the stairs and leave the derelict building.

'Who is he then?' asked d'Artagnan.

Athos shook his head, 'whoever he is, he fits the basic description we had to start with, he was trying to evade you both, and he fought back when you cornered him. This man was not innocent and might well have been involved in Robert's activities.'

Porthos was stood at the top of the stairs looking down at the front door where his friend had disappeared.

'I guess we have to continue the search,' he said, 'although the trails gone cold, doubt we'll find Robert now.'

MMMM

_Now..._

Aramis smiled as d'Artagnan talked with enthusiasm about the cadets that had been put under his tutelage. The young Musketeer had not trained any of the new cadets before, he was taking the role very seriously. Aramis wondered how long it would be before he just saw it as another part of his work.

They had enjoyed an uneventful guard duty. The Royal family had spent some time walking in the gardens of the Palace, which meant the two Musketeers had been able to stroll at a discreet distance behind them, ever alert, but at liberty to converse quietly. Something they could not do often when they were guarding the family.

'Are you seeing Constance today?' asked Aramis when d'Artagnan had finally exhausted his talk of cadets and training.

D'Artagnan nodded with a small smile, 'we aim to meet in the market.'

D'Artagnan pointed at the road up ahead of them, that led to one of the larger markets. Aramis guessed his companion would not want company any further.

He was about to bid his friend a good evening when he noticed that d'Artagnan was looking around intently. Instantly alert, Aramis followed d'Artagnan's lead.

'Three men,' said d'Artagnan quietly, 'following us, and two more ahead, just before the turning. I'd noticed the ones behind us, but they weren't too suspicious, that's why I didn't say anything, but the two ahead, they're wearing the same cloaks.'

Aramis nodded, surreptitiously checking his weapons at the same time. He turned to confront the men behind them only to find all three had their guns drawn, pointed squarely at the two of them.

'What is it that you want?' said d'Artagnan.

'You two to come quietly,' said the man in the middle of the three.

'And why would we do that?' asked Aramis.

'We could shoot a few of the locals?' said the man, his dark scruffy hair almost covering his eyes. ''Spect you wouldn't want that… would you?'

The man nodded behind the two Musketeers. D'Artagnan remained still, his concentration on the three men, Aramis turned around and watched as the two men that had been loitering by the junction of the two roads, edged closer to an unsuspecting stallholder, a gun, visible to Aramis, but not the Parisian, aimed at his stomach.

As Aramis turned back, he saw that the three men had moved forward. The scruffy haired man looked at d'Artagnan.

'Turn around,' he said as he pulled a length of rope from under his cloak.

D'Artagnan glanced at Aramis who nodded slowly. They needed the men to get closer if they were going to try to engage them, but the threat to the locals made any move on their part risky. Aramis tried to take a few steps back, to put him closer to the man that was threatening the stallholder.

Another of the men, with a scarred, pockmarked, face shook his head, 'why bother?'

D'Artagnan rolled his eyes and turned his back on the men, putting his hands behind him. Aramis was about to do the same when the scruffy man stepped closer to d'Artagnan and struck him across the back of the head with a short stout stick. Aramis tried to protest but was grabbed and forcefully pushed into the nearest wall.

'What's going on there?' came a voice a few yards away.

Aramis realised it was the stallholder, he hoped the man would stay out of the way.

'Nothin' that concerns you,' was the gruff reply the man received.

Aramis managed to turn his head to look in the direction of the inquisitive stallholder. They made eye contact. The man nodded imperceptibly to him. Aramis wondered if they had an ally.

'Well,' said the man, backing off slightly. 'Just get your business done… before anyone else sees.'

The stallholder moved right out of the way, to the other side of his stall, ushering a couple of women who were watching back a few paces.

Aramis' attention was drawn to one of the other cloaked men, a big, gormless looking brute, who was pulling the limp form of d'Artagnan over his shoulder. At the same time, the scruffy man was busy using the rope to tie Aramis' wrists firmly behind him before forcing a rag into his mouth and pulling him away from the wall. The man pushed Aramis' head down and proceeded to walk him along the road a few paces before forcing him up onto a covered cart. He was pushed down to lie beside the still unconscious d'Artagnan.

All Aramis could do was hope that the look he had exchanged with the stallholder meant that their capture would not go unnoticed for long.

MMMM


	2. Chapter 2

'You killed my brother.'

D'Artagnan slowly opened his eyes. It took him a few seconds to work out where he was and who was speaking.

'You murdered my brother.'

The man who was speaking was to d'Artagnan left. The voice was familiar to him, but he could not place it.

'I should have just killed you when I got the chance.'

D'Artagnan tried to push his head up, the pounding headache protested against the move.

'I'll not make that mistake again.'

He finally managed to get himself upright. He was tied to a chair, a rope around his chest keeping him upright, his arms pulled uncomfortably behind him, his ankles bound to the legs of the chair. He was gagged firmly. With deference to his headache, d'Artagnan turned his head slowly to his left. It took him a few seconds to focus on the two men. One sat in a chair the other leaning over him very closely.

Aramis was leaning back as far as his could, he was tied to the chair in a similar fashion. The man looming over Aramis was all too familiar to d'Artagnan.

Robert.

The man who had tried and failed to wreak revenge on Aramis for killing his younger brother. The blond-haired man should have been in the Chatelet awaiting execution. The only reason he had not already visited the hangman was a need for him to be interrogated. D'Artagnan could see healing wounds on Roberts arms where the interrogator had plied his trade. He thought about his own healed injuries, inflicted a few weeks before when Robert had made his first revenue attempt.

'Don't you think it's a coincidence that you were with d'Artagnan again when we took you? Trust me, I gave instructions for you to be taken alone, but my men couldn't wait. So here we all are. He is collateral damage… don't worry,' Robert smiled, 'I'll be paying you all the attention this time around. He can watch. I'll decide what to do with him once you are cold.'

'He had nothing to do with your brother's death-'

Aramis' words were cut off by Robert's fist hitting his face firmly. Aramis' head snapped back; it took the Musketeer a few seconds to pull himself straight.

Robert stood back, looking Aramis up and down, 'I am going to have such fun… George will be avenged. But first I have some men who cannot follow orders to deal with.'

The blond escapee walked from the room. D'Artagnan watched him go, he walked with the swagger of a man who had achieved what he wanted. D'Artagnan wondered if he had.

'I can't believe you've been dragged into this again,' said Aramis.

D'Artagnan looked over at his friend. It annoyed him that he could not respond. He wanted to tell his friend that he did not see it in the same way. From what Robert had said the incompetent men would have taken whichever Musketeer was walking with Aramis.

'Please, if I can get him to let you go. You have to go. Don't try to fight them, he might be getting rid of some of his thugs, but he'll keep some on. He's not a man to do all his own dirty work.'

D'Artagnan nodded. He wanted to remonstrate with his friend, but what Aramis was saying was true. Robert seemed to have changed his tactic. The last time he had hurt him in an attempt to teach Aramis what it was like to lose a brother. Now, Robert intended to just kill Aramis, but not before causing him pain.

They both spent some time pulling at the ropes that were keeping them tied to the chairs. D'Artagnan tried rocking his chair back and forth but found it to be solid, the ropes were firmly tied. He could not twist his fingers enough to even attempt to ease the knots undone. He looked around the room, it was sparsely furnished, a shuttered window prevented him from looking out. The light in the room was provided by several torches and lanterns dotted about on the few pieces of furniture. A rickety table, directly behind Aramis had an assortment of implements arranged on it. D'Artagnan had a fair idea of what they were for, but he did not want to think about it. He was glad that, at that moment, Aramis was unaware of them. Next to the table was a small lit brazier.

Their attempts to get free of their bonds proved fruitless. Robert reappeared at the open doorway, closely followed by two of his thugs. D'Artagnan recognised the tall, broad man from when they had been confronted on the street. The other man, a thick-set, olive-skinned man, looked at them both with an obvious sneer. D'Artagnan got the impression the man was looking forward to what was about to happen.

Robert stopped in front of Aramis, 'this is Franco. He is an expert in giving pain… torture. He comes highly recommended. If you hadn't managed to get the better of me last time, I was all set to unleash him upon you after I had killed your young friend.'

D'Artagnan watched as Franco moved around behind Aramis and look the tools of his trade over. He picked up a pair of pliers, opening and closing them a few times before putting them back down. He glanced at d'Artagnan and winked. The man, in his fifties, appeared to be ready to begin the task that Robert had given him.

'Let d'Artagnan go and you can do what you want to me…'

Robert laughed, 'I'm going to do what I want with you anyway. It might do the youngster good to see what happens to people who mess with men of influence.'

Aramis shook his head, 'you have no influence-'

'I have enough influence to hire men such as Franco. My Italian friend is not easy to get hold of, he is much in demand.'

As he spoke Robert moved around behind Aramis, grabbing him by the hair and forcing his head back.

'I have been well paid for my work. And, as I am currently between jobs, I have the time to deal with you… and I will use my influence to help me to do that.'

Robert let Aramis go with a shove, the chair rocking slightly with the force. Aramis glared at the man but remained silent. D'Artagnan knew there was nothing he could say. Robert had them both and was not going to let either of them go. D'Artagnan continued to try to loosen the ropes around his wrists, he knew he would not succeed, but not to try seemed wrong.

Franco moved around to stand in front of Aramis, he smiled what d'Artagnan thought was a genuine smile, it lacked empathy for Aramis, but Franco seemed happy.

'I do not often get the chance to practice my art. Usually, I am needed to interrogate and extract information. My benefactor, Signor Robert, he does not require anything from you other than your eventual death. He has not given me a time limit, which was most generous of him. You will be providing me with a service… I think you, Signor.'

'Killing someone for no reason, doesn't bother you then?' asked Aramis.

Robert took a couple of steps forward, his fists clenched. Franco put his arm out to stop the advancing angry man.

'Please, Signor, you said I would be allowed an untouched subject. I do not want you to risk me either turning down the work or asking for more money to complete it.'

D'Artagnan saw a fleeted scowl cross Robert's face, he stepped back and nodded.

'Of course. Perhaps I should go. This bastard caused me pain. I do not want to stand in the way of the pain you're going to cause him in return.'

Robert glared at Aramis who glared back for a few seconds before turning and leaving the room. D'Artagnan could hear his footsteps along a wooden-floored hallway or corridor before the sound of a door closing.

Franco turned to the tall brute of a man who was standing by the doorway.

'What is your name?' asked Franco.

The brute looked at Franco for a few seconds, 'Borde,' he said, his deep voice oddly soft.

D'Artagnan wondered if the man was of limited intelligence.

'You will assist me,' said Franco, 'do you think you can do that?'

Borde nodded and took a couple of steps forward.

Franco smiled, 'good. Robert told me you are good at taking orders without argument. When I ask you to do something, you do it.'

'Yes, monsieur,' said Borde.

'Cut his shirt off,' Franco vaguely pointed at Aramis.

Borde pulled a dagger from his belt and advanced on Aramis who was watching the towering brute. D'Artagnan was not surprised to see Aramis try to move away from the threat, although he had nowhere to go.

As Borde started to cut and rip Aramis' shirt, Franco had moved to his table of tools and picked up a branding iron, he pushed it into the braziers, out of sight of Aramis, whose whole attention was on Borde. With the branding iron heating, Franco slowly swept his hand over the other implements, d'Artagnan hated to imagine what was going through the man's mind. He had said he had been given free rein to do what he wanted to Aramis, only the end outcome had been decided, how Franco got Aramis to that point was up to the stocky Italian.

'Let's start simply, shall we?' muttered Franco. 'I don't want to peak too soon… Borde, be a good lad and untie him. I need him against that wall, tie him with his wrists over that hook.'

D'Artagnan looked where Franco was pointing. He had not noticed the hooks on the wall. Several were dotted about the room, high up on the walls. D'Artagnan felt nauseous as he realised the planning that had gone into their abduction. He wondered, not for the first time, how Robert had escaped and how he had been able to plan his revenge on Aramis. The man must have had contacts outside of the prison and money to see to it that the thugs were hired and the house they were in was prepared.

Borde untied the ropes around Aramis' ankles. Aramis glanced at d'Artagnan. They both nodded, if they were going to try to get away, they had to take any chance they got. D'Artagnan watched as Aramis prepared to attack Borde. D'Artagnan was aware of a presence next to him before his head was grabbed and pulled back, the cold blade of a knife pressed against his neck in one swift move.

'It was not the plan to have a second man taken at the same time as you,' said Franco, as he lightly scratched the knife across d'Artagnan's neck, 'but I think you will agree your young friend here is going to prove quite useful… At least to start with… until you are no longer able to plot an escape attempt.'

D'Artagnan saw a few moments of indecision in Aramis' eyes. He wished he could tell his friend to still try to fight his way out, but he knew Aramis would not put him at risk. The chances were not good enough anyway. Better to wait, although d'Artagnan was not sure they would get a better chance. Borde smirked, perhaps the man was not quite as stupid as d'Artagnan thought he was. He continued to untie Aramis ankles whilst watching his captive carefully. Aramis made no move to kick out or attack Borde.

Borde untied the rope around Aramis' chest before hauling him up to stand, his bound wrists forcing him to stumble as they were dragged over the back of the chair. Borde held him firmly as he forced Aramis across to the wall. The thug glanced at Franco, who still had the dagger to d'Artagnan's throat.

'Facing the wall,' said the torturer.

Borde nodded and went about untying Aramis' wrists, keeping one meaty hand around them to prevent Aramis trying to pull away. D'Artagnan saw the look of discomfort on Aramis' face, but the Musketeer steadfastly refused to react to the painful treatment he was receiving. D'Artagnan wondered how long that would last for.

After Borde had forcefully dragged Aramis' wrists up to the hook he firmly tied them and stood back looking at Franco.

'Good,' said the torturer who had watched the hired thug work.

Franco released d'Artagnan as soon as Aramis was secured and went back to his table of tools. D'Artagnan looked at Franco's hand, he was holding a slim pliant length of wood, he guessed it was from a sapling. The torturer swung his arm a couple of times, the sound of the improvised whip whistling through the air made Aramis tense up. D'Artagnan could see the muscles on his back flexing. His friend knew what was to come, even though he could not see it.

D'Artagnan wanted to look away but could not, he watched Franco raise the whip level with the middle of Aramis' back before swinging his arm back. He paused for a few seconds, d'Artagnan knew that the pause would be an additional torment for the man restrained against the wall. When he did swing the whip forward, striking Aramis firmly across the back, Franco did not pause. He made several strikes quickly, leaving a crisscrossed pattern of welts across Aramis' back. The whip had not broken the skin.

Aramis did not cry out in pain. D'Artagnan knew the whipping would have hurt Aramis, but the stoic Musketeer was not prepared to give Franco the satisfaction of a reaction.

Franco stepped back and looked at his work, he glanced across at d'Artagnan.

'He does not react for your benefit as much as to annoy me,' said the torturer, 'a strong man, your friend. I have had men confess before the first strike; I have had men endure many hours of pain before they submit… I suspect your friend is the latter. He will last for hours. As would you, I am sure.'

Aramis was breathing quickly, his forehead pressed against the wall. D'Artagnan could see a slight shake in his arms, but otherwise, his friend was not reacting to the pain he must have been in, or to Franco's words.

Franco wandered across to the brazier, he pulled the branding iron out, the end was already red from the heat. Franco looked at it with a critical eye before thrusting it back into the flames. Twisting around as far as he could, d'Artagnan watched the torturer gently lay the whip across the table and select a looped piece of metal. Franco slipped his fingers into the four loops and fisted his hand over the metal.

'Untie him, let's see how much the whipping has weakened him.'

Borde, who had watched the Italian whipping Aramis with interest, stepped up to the persecuted man and unhooked the rope. Aramis stumbled back a couple of paces before Borde wrapped his big hand around Aramis' arm, stopping him from moving further away.

'I have money,' said Aramis, a slight waver to his voice. 'I'm wealthy, my father is a Marquis.'

D'Artagnan was impressed with Aramis' lie. Aramis did not try to pull away from Borde as the big man undid the ropes around his wrists.

'I'm sure you are, young man,' said Franco, his tone mocking.

Aramis eyes darted to the metal wrapped around the stocky man's fingers. D'Artagnan wondered what Franco intended to do to Aramis. Borde stepped back as Franco walked towards Aramis who stood his ground. As Franco went to punch Aramis the Musketeer easily moved out of the way.

Franco nodded his approval as he circled Aramis. Both men watching each other carefully. Franco made the first move trying to hit his captive in the stomach, but the move had been read, Aramis blocked Franco's arm and managed to land a punch of his own, causing Franco to take a couple of steps back. Borde moved behind Aramis and grabbed him around the arms. Aramis tried to get out of the crushing grip but could do nothing against the much larger man. Franco's lips quirked as he regained his composure. He advanced on the now restrained man, his fingers clenching around the metal rings held in his hand. The blows, like the whipping, were fast. Franco struck Aramis several times across his stomach and chest. Aramis was left gasping for air when Franco finally stepped back. Borde released the beaten man who fell to his hands and knees.

'Not so cocky now, are we?'

Franco used his foot to push Aramis onto his side. D'Artagnan leaned as far as he could in an attempt to see what state his friend was in. The welts on his back were darkening and red marks and a few cuts and grazes now littered Aramis' chest and stomach. His arms were also starting to show signs of bruising from Borde's restraining hands.

'Take a moment to catch your breath. There is no rush to reach the end of the session. I have been known to spend days extracting confessions. This is only the beginning.'

Aramis managed to look up at Franco but did not respond. D'Artagnan pulled at his ropes for a few seconds, glaring at their captors.

Franco moved back to the table at the back of the wall. D'Artagnan saw the look on Aramis' face as he noticed the assortment of pain giving implements for the first time. He tried to school his expression but did not succeed. Aramis looked worried. The more Aramis was assaulted the less chance he would have to secure their escape. D'Artagnan felt helpless, his own escape attempts had proved useless, the ropes around his wrists were too tight, he had been unable to loosen them. He could do nothing but watch his friend being beaten and tortured. The sound of the branding iron being pulled from the brazier drew d'Artagnan's attention back to Franco. The iron was almost white-hot, Franco held out his left hand a few inches from the brand, he seemed satisfied. He turned to Aramis and smiled.

'This is always my favourite, a shame one has to wait for the metal to heat up enough to make it worthwhile.'

Franco advanced on Aramis who was trying to get to his feet. Borde was about to step forward but Franco shook his head and quickened his pace, closing the few yards between himself and Aramis. With no warning, Franco thrust the branding iron forward, in the same manner, that they used their swords. The metal brand, in the shape of an 'x', pressed against Aramis' shoulder.

Aramis screamed.

The Musketeer pulled away from the metal, but Franco simply moved further forward, an evil smile on his lips. When Aramis had moved as far as he could, sprawled on the floor by the wall, Franco pressed the brand against Aramis a second time. Aramis was shaking with pain as he continued to cry out. D'Artagnan found himself pulling at his ropes again, the rough restraints grazing his wrists. He did not care, all he wanted to do was pull Franco away from his friend.

Franco stepped back, Aramis was lying on his side, facing the wall, the second burn mark on his arm was blistering, the skin around the burn getting redder by the second.

As the Italian torturer was about to step forward again a shout from outside the room, followed by the sound of several people running made him stop.

'FIRE!'

MMMM


	3. Chapter 3

**Authors note: Thanks for the reviews. Bit earlier today as our broadband is being a silly and might disappear completely. **

'FIRE!'

D'Artagnan looked towards the door, several of Robert's men ran passed. Robert paused by the door looking down at the prone form of the man who had inadvertently killed his brother.

'Is he dead already? I thought you would have made him last longer than that.'

Franco held up the branding iron, 'I am only just beginning Signor,' he said. 'The fire?'

Robert glanced back the way he had come, 'it'll engulf the house in a matter of seconds if you want to be alive to collect your money, you'll have to leave him. We'll let the fire destroy the evidence.' Robert looked at d'Artagnan with a smirk, 'I'd have liked to see you both die, but this is almost as good. We can watch you both reduced to ash instead.'

Borde had been edging towards the door, he looked at Robert who nodded and indicated he could go. The big man did not wait any longer, disappearing from the room. D'Artagnan could see smoke drifting passed the door. Franco followed in Borde's wake with a last glance over his shoulder at Aramis who had not moved from the floor. D'Artagnan guessed his friend had passed out, he doubted Aramis would not have reacted to the cries of alarm.

Robert lingered in the doorway for a few seconds, looking at Aramis with derision before stepping forward and putting his hands on the wall to brace himself. Robert kicked Aramis three times, the kicks living visible boot prints on his victims already abused back.

'Farewell,' he mocked as he turned to go.

All d'Artagnan could do was watch their captor calmly walk from the room as the smoke in the corridor thickened. The crackle of the fire starting to increase.

MMMM

'We've waited long enough,' said Athos. 'None of the other men have seen them since they left the Palace. Barbotin and Pierre have checked the taverns. I think we have to accept that he has them.'

Treville continued to stare at the garrison gate. Athos knew his Captain had heard him, knew he was making the decision, the only decision that could be made. Porthos shifted impatiently a few yards away, a small group of cadets standing behind him, waiting for the order.

'Start a proper search,' said Treville.

Athos and Porthos did not need any further instruction. Athos nodded towards the assembled Musketeers. Porthos moved off with his cadets.

'We'll thoroughly check the routes they would have taken,' he said as he shepherded the young men from the garrison.

Athos nodded his agreement. They had already spent a couple of hours strategizing as they waited in the increasingly vain hope that Aramis and d'Artagnan were going to return to the garrison. As the light had faded the only decision their Captain really had to make was whether they would start the search then or wait until the following morning.

As Athos and the other men checked their weapons, he wondered what had happened to their friends. The last time Robert had sought revenge, d'Artagnan had been left badly injured and Aramis with a huge burden of guilt that was not his to bear. Athos hated that history appeared to be repeating itself.

He was about to leave when a man hurried up to the garrison gate, he spoke briefly to the man on guard who immediately pointed at Athos. The visitor rushed over to him.

MMMM

The smoke was beginning to make it difficult for d'Artagnan to see anything. He had shouted through his gag hoping that Aramis would regain consciousness. But the prone Musketeer did not stir. The crackle of flames was soon accompanied by the flames themselves. The fire licked around the door frame, d'Artagnan could feel the heat.

He tried to rock his chair if he could knock it, and him over, there was a chance it would break giving him a chance to free himself and get them both out of the burning building. The chair was heavy, d'Artagnan succeeded in only tipping it a couple of inches before it thumped back to its previous position.

Crashing sounds to his left made him wonder if the building was already collapsing. He had been convinced they would be overcome by the smoke fumes before they were crushed by falling masonry and timber. The crashing and splintering of wood continued. The whips of smoke were now billowing and thick, he could not see where the sound was coming from. He screwed his eyes shut as he struggled to breathe through the gag.

When he was grabbed, he could not help flinching, there was movement all around him, dark shadows flitting about. Something was thrown over his head; a dampened cloth. He felt tugging at the ropes around his wrists and ankles for a few seconds. A moment of disorientation followed as he felt himself and the chair he was tied to being picked up, he was lurched from one side to the other. A firm hand covered the top of his head as he was moved, he tried shouting through the gag again but only coughed.

The damp cloth over his head fell away revealing that he had been carried from the room, he looked about, he was in an alleyway, the remains of the shutters from the window lying in pieces around him. Several men, all with their faces covered were huddled around him, two were wielding daggers, busy slicing through the ropes keeping him tied to the chair. Two more men emerged from the smoke that was pouring from the house carrying the limp form of Aramis. D'Artagnan shouted through the gag again, trying to pull away from the masked men. One of the men grabbed him firmly from behind, in the same manner, that Borde had held Aramis when Franco had assaulted him. The man holding d'Artagnan leaned in close to his ear.

'For both your sakes and ours, be quiet. We are rescuing you. But if they know you are alive, they will come for you.'

It took d'Artagnan a few seconds to process what had been said by the man before he nodded. The man's voice was familiar, but d'Artagnan could not remember where from. The gag was pulled from his mouth, he could not help coughing, the man holding him, eased his grip slightly, helping him to lean forward as the ropes keeping him tied to the chair were cut.

Once free of the chair he was pulled to his feet but found he could not move easily, he did not know how long he had been in the chair for, his legs felt heavy and useless. Another man joined the man that had spoken to him, slipping his arm around d'Artagnan's waist. Between them, the two men helped d'Artagnan away from the burning building. He could feel the heat from the blaze on his back as they went.

Through squinted, streaming eyes, d'Artagnan could just about make out that they were walking, at pace, along a back alleyway. The area looked run down, the houses were showing signs of a need for repair.

Someone was waiting for them, holding a door open. The two men carrying Aramis walked through the door. As d'Artagnan reached the door he realised the person holding the door was a little old woman. He wondered if he recognised the slight woman, but again he was not sure. The men helping him guided him into the house, the door was closed and locked behind him.

'Get them both in there,' said the old woman from behind them.

'Yes Jeanne,' said the man that had warned him to be quiet.

Aramis was carried ahead of them, as d'Artagnan reached the door he forced the men to stop.

'Why…?'

He wanted to say more but started coughing again.

The old woman smiled up at him, she reached up and cupped his cheek in her hand.

'You don't remember us, do you?' she said. 'We were the ones that he forced out of the house they held you in last time.'

As the woman spoke the realisation hit d'Artagnan. He had been disoriented when he had met the old woman the last time. She had sat next to him, holding his hand as they journeyed back to the garrison in the rumbling cart. He remembered her talking to him softly, giving him reassurances that his ordeal was over.

'You helped us,' d'Artagnan managed to say.

'Yes, we did, and now we're helping you again. Adam saw you being taken into the old house at the corner of the street. We weren't going to let that man hurt you both again… Although I think we were a bit late.'

The old woman crossed the room to where Aramis had been laid on an old tatty couch. She sat on a low stool which one of the other men had put out for her. D'Artagnan was helped to a cushioned chair.

'The fire?'

'We started it,' said Adam.

Adam made a sweeping gesture to the other men, who were standing around the room. The men were a mixture of ages, but all were dressed in well-worn clothes. Adam looked the same age as d'Artagnan, had the look of a brawler about him, a long scar stretched across his jaw.

'Thank you,' said d'Artagnan who was finding it a bit difficult to take in all that had happened over the last few minutes.

'Go to the garrison,' said Jeanne, looking at the scarred man, 'tell their friends where they are. Tell them that they will need help getting back. We will tend to them whilst we wait.'

Adam nodded and left the room.

D'Artagnan watched as Jeanne calmly and efficiently ordered the rest of the men, who all towered over her, to get water and clean cloths. She inferred to one man to steal some alcohol to clean the cuts to Aramis' back. Jeanne was the matriarch of the group; it was clear the men all respected her. The community was similar to the Court of Miracles. The people had their own rules and order. They knew what they could and could not do, d'Artagnan suspected any wrongdoing would be dealt with. Robert had been dealt with pretty swiftly.

A young girl appeared in the room carrying strips of cloth, two of the men followed her with water and a bottle of spirit.

'Sophie,' said Jeanne, 'I suspect this young man may need his wrists cleaned, those ropes were rough and I doubt he was keeping still whilst he watched his friend being beaten.'

D'Artagnan looked at his wrists, he had forgotten about the rope burns and scratches he had received.

Sophie, who was probably about nine pulled up another stool and sat next to d'Artagnan, she gently took his hand and turned it over. She looked at him and smiled.

'Grand-mere taught me what to do, monsieur.'

D'Artagnan nodded, he went back to watching Jeanne who had enlisted one of the other men to help turn Aramis onto his side so that she could look at his back. The bruises that covered the Musketeer were rapidly darkening with bloody cuts and grazes where Robert had kicked him only adding to the discomfort Aramis would be in when he regained consciousness.

'What did you do to annoy that man so much?' asked one of the other men, a middle-aged man who was missing his left eye, a collection of scars across his face made d'Artagnan think the man had not lost the eye without a fight.

D'Artagnan replied, 'about a year ago we were searching for him, Robert was wanted for organising a large robbery. We had a basic description of him. Aramis and I,' d'Artagnan nodded towards the unconscious man, 'we were following a good lead. We found him, or rather we thought we'd found him. I was…incapacitated...and Aramis was forced to fight the man. He killed the man. But it turns out Aramis killed Robert's younger brother…'

The one-eyed man shook his head, 'I was a soldier, monsieur, I know it is difficult at times. Information does not always get where it needs to.'

'Philip,' said Jeanne to the man, 'can you check on what is going on outside, make sure this Robert and his thugs have gone.'

Philip nodded before glancing at the other men who followed him from the room leaving only Jeanne, Sophie and a younger man standing by the door, with the Musketeers.

Sophie had cleaned and bandaged d'Artagnan's wrists. She took one of the jugs of water that had been brought in and poured a cup for d'Artagnan. D'Artagnan hid a smile as the young girl kept close to him as he took a drink, obviously worried he might not be able to hold the cup. Jeanne had trained her granddaughter well.

Aramis moaned as Jeanne was gently cleaning the burns to his shoulder and arm. D'Artagnan was about to get up to help, fearing Aramis would lash out, but Jeanne seemed to work some magic on his friend. Aramis was calm as he opened his eyes. He focused on Jeanne, a look of confusion on his face.

'You're safe, young man,' said Jeanne quietly. 'D'Artagnan is alright as well. We got you both out and have sent word to your garrison.'

'Robert…?'

'We don't know where he is,' said d'Artagnan. 'They've gone to scout the area in case he's still around.'

Aramis still looked confused, 'how did you get us out?'

Jeanne smiled, 'some of the boys set fire to the house you were being held in. It was a risky ploy, but we suspected they would abandon you and if they had not, once you were taken from the house you would have been easier to rescue.'

D'Artagnan watched as Aramis absorbed the information. He tried to move but ended up wincing and screwing his eyes shut. Jeanne rested her hand on his arm, below the branding burn, offering him comfort as he rode out the pain.

'Don't try that again,' she said. 'I'm sorry, but I don't have anything for the pain.'

Aramis managed a nod, 'I'm sorry we've caused issues for you again.'

Jeanne tutted at him and went back to cleaning and dressing the wounds. D'Artagnan was impressed, Jeanne looked like a frail old woman, but she was stronger than her slight frame suggested. She managed to keep Aramis firmly in his place when she dressed the burns, before helping him to lie on his back and covering him with a blanket.

'I'll find you a shirt,' she said, 'it won't be a fancy white one, but it will do for now.'

She bustled out of the room.

MMMM

The market trader had spoken without preamble, he had calmly explained what he had seen. Aramis and d'Artagnan being taken by a group of men all wearing the same dark cloaks. D'Artagnan had been knocked out and Aramis forced to go with the men. The trader explained that he was able to follow the cart and watched the two Musketeers being taken into a dilapidated house on the corner of two roads. Sensibly the market trader had not ventured any further, instead, heading straight for the Musketeer garrison.

Athos had sent a cadet to find Porthos and nodded his approval as the waiting Musketeer began to move out to the place, they now knew their missing brothers had been taken to.

Athos was in the middle of updating Treville as they moved towards the garrison gate, stopping when a young man with an injury covered by a rudimentary bandage to his arm, ran towards them. The man who had a scar across his jaw was familiar to Athos. The man stumbled to a stop in front of them.

'Your men,' said the scarred man to Treville, 'they're in danger... we got them out… we thought they were safe but...the man - Robert - he found out where we have them. I managed to get away, they killed my friend,' the man paused for a moment the shock of the events catching up with him.

'We need to get to them,' said Treville.

The scarred man said, 'they were threatening to burn the house… like we'd burnt the house they had been in… one of them managed to slice my arm as I ran.'

'We need to get to them quickly,' said Athos.

MMMM

**Authors note: I'm taking part in an endurance run thing tomorrow (because I'm stupid and thought it was a good idea) so the final chapter and the epilogue will be posted later in the day tomorrow. – provided the broadband is still working !**


	4. Chapter 4

The shouts and screams outside the house they were in had started suddenly. Jeanne had been forced to push Aramis back down when his soldiering instinct had kicked in. D'Artagnan, who had already spent a few minutes checking the windows and doors in the old house, went with Elias, the younger men that had stayed behind, to see what the noise was.

The one door they were keeping available for use only had a couple of planks of wood across it to keep it closed. D'Artagnan approached the door cautiously. The lack of maintenance of the old house meant that the wood had warped a little leaving a gap where the double doors should have met in the middle. D'Artagnan peered through the gap.

'Is it that man again?' asked Elias from behind him.

D'Artagnan nodded, 'he's with some of his men. See if you can look out of the other windows, be careful, they may shoot if they see a shadow. We need to know if the house is surrounded.'

Elias nodded and snuck away.

'I know you can hear me,' shouted Robert from the street. 'That was clever, trying to scare us off with fire… We will do the same. Unless you give me Aramis. If you hand him over we won't need to hurt anyone else.'

Robert turned to Franco who was standing a few feet behind him, they had a conversation that d'Artagnan could not hear. Robert nodded.

'We'll give you a few minutes to get him to the door,' Robert sneered, 'if he's lucky he's still unconscious. He might not need to know how close he came to getting away…'

D'Artagnan turned away from the door, Sophie was standing in the doorway of the room they had been treated, she looked scared.

'Are you going to let them take your friend?' she asked.

D'Artagnan shook his head, 'no. We need to find another way out.'

Sophie nodded and walked back into the room. D'Artagnan reached the room in time to see Aramis trying to get off the couch again. Jeanne was struggling to keep the injured man still.

'I'm not putting all your lives in danger.'

'And how do you know he won't just come in here and kill us anyway?"

Aramis stared at the old woman; the Musketeer did not know how to respond.

'No, Aramis, you will stay right there, we will find a way to deal with it-'

Elias rushed into the room, he was pale, his eyes wide.

'They killed Philip,' he said 'He's... he's lying out there with blood pouring out of him. They said the other one, I think they meant Adam, was injured and wouldn't make it to get help...?'

Aramis swung his legs off the couch he tried to push himself up to stand.

'You have to let me go,' he insisted. 'It will give you a chance to get away. Please.'

'No,' d'Artagnan and Jeanne spoke at the same time.

Aramis slowly sat back down; he looked a little annoyed at being overruled. Jeanne was correct, the chances of Robert not killing the rest of them anyway were slim, they had nothing to lose by trying to escape the men outside together.

'They gave us a few minutes,' said d'Artagnan, 'let's use it wisely. Is there a cellar with a door they might not have found?'

Elias shook his head, 'there's no way into the cellar other than from the house.'

Aramis, who had accepted that he was not allowed to make decisions about his own fate suggested, 'can we get to the roof and jump to the next building?'

'Too far for a little girl, an old woman and an injured Musketeer, my dear,' said Jeanne with a smile.

Elias, who had gone back to the main door, returned, 'they've got torches. They're starting to light them.'

They looked at each other for a few seconds. D'Artagnan noticed the look of guilt on Aramis' face.

Elias shifted awkwardly, 'I think Sophie and probably me could fit through that gap in the wall. The one in the bedroom upstairs, there's a cart under the gap that we could use to climb down on…'

'Are the men anywhere near that wall or cart?' asked Aramis.

Elias shook his head.

'Grand-mere...' said Sophie, the worry marring her childish features.

'You go with Elias,' said Jeanne. 'You get help for us.'

Elias held out his hand to Sophie who, after a quick hug with her grandmother, took it and allowed him to lead her from the room. They could hear their light footsteps on the stairs.

'He is a resourceful young man,' said Jeanne. 'They will be fine.'

D'Artagnan suspected the old woman was trying to reassure herself, more than them. Aramis was watching Jeanne. The old woman noticed.

'I am old, monsieur, it is you two that would be missed more.'

They all looked towards the front of the house when the sound of several gunshots shattered the silence.

MMMM

Porthos reached the street at the same time as Athos and Treville, he sent his cadets to pair up with the Musketeers that had spread themselves around. The men were finding what cover they could as they assessed the situation.

'You helped us before,' said Porthos to the scarred man.

'This is Adam, he managed to get away from Robert's men and was the one that got word to us what was happening,' said Athos.

Adam nodded to Porthos, 'we helped them to escape but Robert found us. He's threatening to burn them out-'

Adam paused, his attention drawn to a young man and a girl who were running towards them.

'Sophie, Elias...how did you…?'

'We got out through the gap in the wall. They're going to set light to the building. There's no way Grand-mere Jeanne and the soldiers can get out.'

'Leave it to us now,' said Porthos. 'Keep out of the way.'

Porthos watched Adam indicate for the young man to take the girl to safety. Reluctantly, Elias led Sophie further along the street, away from the house that they knew their friends were trapped.

Treville had been talking to the other Musketeers, he returned to Porthos and Athos, pulling his gun from his belt as he walked.

'They have guns, but I think we can take them out. We have them outnumbered, but we need to go now. These men have abducted two Musketeers and are now trying to murder them. Aim to kill gentlemen, we do not need to take any of them alive.'

Porthos nodded as he checked his own weapons. He paused waiting for the order from his Captain who was glancing at the other Musketeers dotted about the street, once he was sure they were all prepared for the attack he raised his hand and yelled the order. As one, the Musketeers and Cadets, with Adam in tow, charged at the address.

Robert and his men were taken by surprise. Porthos watched as a couple of the men bolted, followed by three cadets and a couple of Musketeers. Athos and Treville circled one way around the men, cutting off any further retreat as more Musketeers got into better positions to take out the remaining men.

Adam had followed Porthos, the capable-looking man seemed unbothered by the injury he had to his arm, the blood-stained bandage the only indication that he was incapacitated in any way. Porthos knew that people from Adam's walk of life were tough. He suspected the man would stand with him without issue when the fighting started.

'You any good with a gun?' asked Porthos.

Adam shook his head as he pulled a dagger from his belt, 'always had my fights at close quarters...although I'm usually doing it for money in the local tavern.'

Porthos nodded, 'I did my share of that before I turned to soldiering.'

They advanced towards a couple of the men who were backing away, they were both holding lit torches, but the men had nowhere to go, they had trapped themselves in a corner. One of the men, a big broad, simple-looking man, charged at them. Porthos raised his gun and fired, the ball hitting the man in the face. The now-dead man stumbled forward, the momentum of his charge carrying him onwards a few paces before he landed, sprawled on the ground. The torch rolling from his hand across the damp cobbled ground uselessly. Adam had to move out of the way of the falling body. The second man took his chance but ended up on the receiving end of Adam's dagger. The thug tried to fight back, he dropped his torch and managed to punch Adam on the face, but the brawler was made of stronger stuff, he head-butted the man and twisted the knife that was embedded in his opponents' gut. As the man collapsed to the ground, blood bubbling from his mouth, Adam looked at Porthos. He looked shocked.

'First time you've killed a man?' suggested the Musketeer.

Adam nodded, 'sorry. I've only ever cut people before. He had a gun… I had no choice.'

'It's alright. They'll be no comeback… I killed them both,' said Porthos with a knowing smile.

Adam managed a small smile of his own as he grabbed the torches the men had been intending to use on the building.

MMMM

D'Artagnan glanced back as Aramis made his way along the corridor, using the wall for support. His friend was obviously in pain, but the determined look on his face told d'Artagnan that Aramis was not going to remain lying down if their only defence was breached.

They had no idea what was going on in the streets surrounding the house. They had heard several gunshots and the sound of men running rapidly passed the door. The gap in the door was too narrow to properly make out what was happening without getting close enough to risk being seen.

Aramis went to one of the shuttered windows by the door and peered through, d'Artagnan knew it was a dangerous move, but he did not stop his friend. Jeanne was standing a few feet away, wringing her hands as she watched the front door, the expression of worry on her face no doubt reflected on d'Artagnan's own.

D'Artagnan saw Aramis visibly react to something he saw outside. Aramis turned back, a look of hope in his eyes.

'Musketeers,' said Aramis.

A volley of shots and more shouts caused all three of them to move away from the doors and windows.

'But Robert and his thugs are fighting back,' concluded d'Artagnan. 'Jeanne, are there any guns...anything we could use as a weapon in the house?'

Jeanne nodded, 'my husband's arquebuse,' she said stepping into the room across from the sitting room they had been using.

She returned carrying the ancient-looking weapons. D'Artagnan watched as Aramis humoured the old woman and took the gun. He looked it over but had to shake his head. Jeanne nodded her understanding.

'It has not been fired in decades. We keep it to frighten people,' she said. 'There are a couple of daggers in the drawer of the side table.'

D'Artagnan pulled the drawer open and took the two daggers, he passed one to Aramis who spent a few moments feeling the weight of the small knife. They exchanged a look; it was not much but it was better than nothing.

The shots and shouts were dying out. D'Artagnan wondered if they would not need to defend themselves. A heavy thud against the front door interrupted his thoughts. Jeanne gasped and stepped back a few paces.

'Hide,' said d'Artagnan.

Jeanne backed away and slipped into another room, pushing the door almost closed. D'Artagnan knew the old woman would not be able to defend herself and would stand no chance against even the most ill trained of Robert's men.

The noise of the door being hit continued for a few seconds. They watched as the old wood splintered and gradually broke apart. A final thud saw the two planks being used to barricade them closed, fall away leaving the doors to swing open. A heavy handcart was revealed. It had been used as a battering ram against the doors.

Robert looked in at them.

D'Artagnan noticed that Aramis had pushed himself off the wall, standing as straight as he could manage, a look of defiance on his face. D'Artagnan copied his friend, taking a few steps forward at the same time. He was pleased that Aramis did not try to move forward, it would have given Robert all the information he needed about Aramis' less than healthy state at that moment. D'Artagnan doubted Aramis could move without aid, standing was one thing, actually walking or fighting was something else entirely.

The man that had managed to cause them both injuries on two separate occasions started to walk carefully around the cart he had used to force the door open. He narrowed his eyes at Aramis. D'Artagnan moved forward. Robert surprised d'Artagnan with his turn of speed. He grabbed the Musketeer by the neck and rammed him against the nearest door frame. D'Artagnan lost his balance, falling into the room, away from Robert.

As he managed to push himself over onto his back and try to scramble to his feet, d'Artagnan watched Robert move towards Aramis who was trying to stand his ground. Robert used both hands to firmly push Aramis back a couple of steps, knocking him firmly into the wall, causing the injured man to cry out in pain. D'Artagnan knew Aramis would not have wanted to show such vulnerability at that moment, but as Robert was responsible for several of the Musketeer's injuries it did not make much difference. Robert moved his hands around Aramis neck. He began to throttle Aramis who looked stunned at the move.

But as d'Artagnan managed to get to his feet, using the door frame to pull himself up he saw Robert take a slow step back. The blond man's hands slipped from around Aramis' neck, falling limply to his sides. Robert stumbled a half step back, turning slightly as he moved. The handle of the small knife Aramis had been holding was embedded in the man's chest, angled so that the blade would have pierced the man's heart.

Robert glared at Aramis for a few seconds before sinking to the floor his hand reaching for the dagger, clutching at it weakly, before he toppled to the side, slumping onto the floor.

The door to the room where Jeanne had hidden was pulled open, the wise old woman calmly walked across to Aramis and took his arm to steady him as he wavered slightly.

D'Artagnan could see that despite the pain Aramis was in there was a look of relief on his face.

Now that Robert was dead the threat was gone.

MMMM


	5. Chapter 5

_Epilogue…_

Aramis was talking quietly to his horse and treating her to bits of carrot he had stolen from the mess when he saw the visitors arrive. He could not help a smile. Jeanne, arm in arm with Adam was looking around the garrison yard taking in the various activities. Adam was watching Porthos sparring with two cadets, soundly beating them in a matter of seconds. Sophie was standing on the other side of Jeanne, clutching her grandmother's skirts and looking a little bewildered. Elias rounded out the group, he was watching the soldiers and cadets in awe.

As Aramis walked across to them, he saw Treville descend the last few steps from his office to greet them warmly. Porthos wandered over at the same time.

'I'm glad you could come,' said Treville, 'we really couldn't thank you properly last week, there was too much to deal with…'

Jeanne looked up at Aramis and smiled. Aramis took her hand and kissed it with a smile of his own.

'I'm pleased to see you looking better, young man,' she said.

'Ah,' laughed Porthos, 'it takes more than that to stop Aramis.'

Aramis gave Porthos a friendly glare, 'I am feeling much better, madam,' he said. 'Thanks to your care I am already back on light duties-'

Jeanne looked at Treville sternly, 'I hope you're not making him do more than he is fit for. He was badly injured by those men.'

Treville raised his eyebrows at the apparent telling off from the small old woman.

'Please,' said Treville, 'have a seat.'

He indicated a chair that had been brought out of the mess for Jeanne. The others made themselves comfortable around the table. Sophie was about to sit down when she spotted something at the garrison gate, a broad smile brightening up her face.

'Hello there,' said d'Artagnan as he and Athos walked across to the group.

Sophie reached out for d'Artagnan's hands and spent a few seconds inspecting the healing grazes on his wrists that she had treated. Once she was satisfied, she released him with obvious pride to her smile as she sat down next to Jeanne, who stroked her hair, unable to hide a little pride of her own.

'We asked you to come for two reasons,' said Treville once they were all settled, and water or wine had been poured for them all.

The visitors were all paying attention to the Captain.

'You have saved my men, not once but twice,' continued Treville, 'and not without a loss to your own community for which we are all very sorry.'

The Musketeers all nodded. The one thing they had made time for during the immediate aftermath of the rescue was to make sure Philip's body was treated with reverence as it was taken away. Elias hung his head a little at the memory, d'Artagnan squeezed the young man's shoulder.

'As a thank you, we have a gift for you. I know that you will see that it is distributed fairly amongst your community,' said Treville as he handed Jeanne a weighty money bag.

The collection had been contributed to by all the Musketeers and cadets. They had all been very impressed with the help the poor community had offered their abducted brothers when they could simply have ignored the men's plight.

Jeanne weighed the bag in her hand for a few seconds, she appeared to be lost for words.

'Thank you,' said Adam on her behalf.

'And...' said Treville with a smile before looking towards Porthos who took over from the Captain.

'Adam,' Porthos started, 'I spoke to the Captain about how capable you were, when you were fighting with me...we think you would make a fine soldier...a fine Musketeer.'

Adam stared at Porthos open-mouthed.

'But… but… I'm not a noble,' he stuttered.

'Don't matter,' said Porthos shaking his head.

Adam looked up to find all the soldiers shaking their heads.

'There are several of us that are not noblemen or noblemen's sons,' said Aramis. 'The Captain picks the man, not the title or heritage. If Porthos says you would make a capable Musketeer, he is right. With the training you would get, the same as any other cadet, you stand exactly the same chance of gaining your commission.'

Jeanne reached across and rubbed his arm, 'this is a good opportunity for you, Adam, you should take the offer.'

Adam continued to look stunned for a few seconds before nodding.

'Good,' said Treville, 'I expect to see you early on Monday for your first day of training.'

Treville bid them all a good afternoon and retreated back to his office. Aramis watched as Elias continued to stare at the cadets training.

'Give it a couple of years and you might be suitable as well,' Aramis remarked.

Elias flushed with embarrassment.

Jeanne chuckled, 'don't you go taking all the young men away,' she said with a wink.

Porthos and Athos took Adam and Elias to see the rest of the garrison. Jeanne glanced at d'Artagnan and nodded towards Sophie. D'Artagnan understood and took the little girl to see the horses that were being rubbed down by the stable boys.

Once they were alone Jeanne turned to Aramis.

'Are you sure you are alright?' she asked.

Aramis nodded, 'it took me a while to accept that what happened was not really my fault. I'd felt awful for accidentally killing Robert's brother...then he went on his twisted revenge attacks… then I felt guilty for d'Artagnan getting caught up in it, not once but twice.'

Aramis paused with a chuckle.

'And then you were there… not once but twice. My guardian angel.'

Aramis took Jeanne's hand in his.

Jeanne smiled, 'I'm pleased you've accepted you weren't the one at fault. It was brave of you to want to give yourself up for d'Artagnan and I… I'm pleased you didn't.'

'So am I,' said Aramis. 'So am I.'

The End.

**Authors note: I hope you enjoyed it. Thanks for the comments.**


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